


we found love in a hopeless place

by lostmemoria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Allison Argent - Freeform, takes some place around 4x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmemoria/pseuds/lostmemoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia loses hope. A certain deputy helps her get it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we found love in a hopeless place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isaaclydia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaaclydia/gifts).



> I'm suppose to be writing for nano, I know, I know, but mona (@gibbinscastillo on tumblr) gave me this painful marrish headcanon and I couldn't resist to write it. (and also bc mona is a complete sweetheart and i wanted to write this for her <3 ) So here it is: lydia realizes she can’t remember what allison’s voice sounds like and she tries calling her number to get ally’s voicemail, except the number had been reissued to someone else. aND THEN SHE BREAKS DOWN CRYING IN JORDAN’S ARMS. 
> 
> And of course I was listening to Ed Sheeran's cover of _[We Found Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2rn4n-Sdp0)_ because it's absolutely brilliant and you all should listen to it!

Lydia’s been at the police station all day. Sheriff Stilinski’s told her to leave, told her that she’ll be the first person he informs when Meredith finally speaks—and Lydia doesn’t doubt his words— but she’s stubborn and determined at the same time, so the Sheriff eventually gives up and lets her stay, telling her that if she needs anything, just let anyone know.  
  
But after all the helpless situations that the strawberry blonde’s been through in the past two years, she’s tired of asking for help, because for once she wants to be able to _help_ someone. And maybe that’s why she’s still here, at the station, tired and cold, because the least she can do is be here when Meredith speaks up, while Scott and the others are out there trying to stop the assassins.   
  
Because they have claws and guns and katanas and baseballs bats, while Lydia just has voices in her head.  
  
 _You’re the deadest weight._ It’s been two years, yet Jackson’s comment still manages to find its way back in her mind during situations like this, where she feels the most helpless. It doesn’t matter how many times she tells herself that he didn’t mean it—Or maybe he did, anger does bring out the honest truth from people sometimes— because it’s still there, forever imprinted into her memory. Sighing, she buries her head in her hands, because she’s tired and cold and she just wants to sleep until it’s all over. She finds her eyes start to close, the need to just fade away overwhelming her, but she knows that even if she goes to sleep, it won’t help her. It won’t take the exhaustion away, because this tiredness? It’s not just from her lack of sleep, it’s from her inner demons weighing down heavy on her.  
  
And those can never go away, sleep or no sleep.  
  
Suddenly, Lydia feels a warmth envelope her body and she quickly looks up. Her tired eyes meet soft green ones.   
  
“Sorry, I thought—you looked a bit cold,” Parrish says, biting his lower lip nervously and holding his jacket so it’s slightly hovering over her.  
  
Lydia gives him a weak smile. She probably looks like a mess right now to him, since she hasn’t had any proper sleep in the past fourteen hours or even touched up on her makeup. And her hair? She really doesn’t want to see what state her hair is in at the moment. But she manages to smiles at the handsome and currently, very concerned looking deputy. “Thanks, but it’s fine,” she says, but that doesn’t stop Parrish from draping his officer jacket over her anyways.  
  
She’s grateful for it though, as she huddles into his jacket, sliding her arms through the sleeves slowly and reveling in his warmth and his _scent_. It’s minty and refreshing and it makes her smile a little more than she should. Lydia fully expects him to leave after that, because she’s pretty sure he has more important things to do than talk to a seventeen year old girl, but surprisingly, he doesn’t leave.   
  
“Lydia,” he says, this time in a small whisper. “You’re tired and you need sleep. Do you want me to drive you home?”  
  
His voice unexpectedly soothes her, and she wouldn’t mind just falling asleep to it. Lydia shakes her head though, “No, I’m fine. And besides, I’m not going anywhere until Meredith says something.” It comes out stubborn, childish almost, but Lydia doesn’t care.  
  
“Meredith will be here in the morning,” Parrish says and then glances at the clock, “and it’s a school night.”  
  
Hearing his comment about school makes Lydia snort, and then let out a laugh, but it’s an empty laugh, a lifeless laugh. “School? School is the last thing I need to worry about, deputy,” she deadpans, because how can she even think about schoolwork when all her friends can be killed at any given moment? It’s kind of ironic, actually, because she’s worried more about her friends than she is about herself, the second highest worth on the hit list, even though none of her friends seem to be worried about her. But she’s sort of used to it by now—because she’s been left out of the pack’s plans more than just a few times, and although she understands that it’s because everyone’s trying their best to not get killed, she still can’t help but feel  alone.  
  
Maybe that’s why when she looks at Parrish now, and sees his worried eyes and concerned expression for her, she can’t help but feel a bit grateful, because even though he might be a deputy and it’s practically his job to worry about people, the thought of at least someone caring— even if he’s someone she doesn’t know that well—gives her relief.   
  
Parrish sighs, probably understanding how stubborn and determined she can be by now, because he says, “Alright, but you still need to sleep. And I’m not taking no for an answer to that.”  
  
Lydia gives a quick glance at her surroundings and gives him a small smirk. “I don’t think sleeping on this chair is going to help anyone.”  
  
“We have a couch in the break room. You can sleep there. From all the times I’ve fallen asleep there, it’s actually pretty comfortable,” Parrish tells her with a small smile as he offers her his hand.  
  
Lydia stares at his hand as if she doesn’t know whether to take it or not. But she’s really tired and all she wants at the moment is to lay down, although she’d never admit it, so she takes his hand carefully and allows him to lead the way. His hand feels warm against her cool skin and she thinks, it’s a touch she can get used to, but then her eyes widen at the thought of that and her heart flutters a little too wildly, because what was she thinking? Her _and_ Parrish? No, that’s silly. It doesn’t matter if he’s nice and handsome and basically everything that she’s never been able to have in a guy, because it isn’t possible.  
  
She’s just not that lucky.  
  
Lydia follows Parrish closely until she suddenly stops abruptly, her head spinning a little from the lack of sleep and her vision going black before she staggers, her legs giving out underneath her. She doesn’t fall to the floor like she expects though, because she feels strong arms catch her by her waist before she hits the floor and hurts her knees. When her vision comes back moments later, she’s staring up at bright green eyes again as Parrish helps her back on to her feet. His hands leave her waist but he keeps a gentle hold on her elbow, just in case she staggers again, and Lydia appreciates that. “Okay, maybe I do need to lay down,” she admits, furrowing her eyebrows at him.  
  
Parrish chuckles, flashing her a smile—and Lydia, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel her heart skip a beat from that smile.  
  
When they finally reach the break room, Lydia notices that it’s a lot quieter than the busy bustling going about outside. It’s also empty, which is good because she definitely doesn’t want to be sleeping in front of a bunch of a deputies lounging around. She spots the couch in the corner and it’s a horrid green color, but nevertheless it looks comfy.  
  
Parrish touches her shoulder again, making her look up at him. “I’m going to get you some water, okay?”   
  
Lydia nods and she watches him leave the room before making her way slowly to the couch, taking a seat. She still has Parrish’s jacket on and she doesn’t bother to take it off, because it’s warm and cozier than she thought it would be. She doesn’t lay down immediately either, because it’s during times like this, when she feels the most alone and the most helpless where she really just has to hear _her_ voice. Taking out her phone from the pocket of her skirt, Lydia goes to her contacts list, clicking on the very first name on the list and dialing the number. She holds the phone to her ear and listens as it rings once, twice, three times before—  
  
“Hello?”  
  
Her breath hitches. She quickly looks at the screen, thinking that maybe she dialed the wrong number, but no. She didn’t. “W-Who’s this?” Lydia asks.  
  
The voice is of a man’s, low and gruff and not the voice she’s used to hearing whenever she dials Allison’s number. “ _Who’s this?_ ” The man repeats the question back to her and without answering, Lydia hangs up.  
  
She lets the phone drop from her grasp, letting it carelessly hit the floor as she feels her heart beat fast, because she doesn’t quite understand what just happened. She’s been calling Allison’s number ever since—ever since what happened, and she’s always been redirected to the voicemail. _Always._ To the point where she remembers the huntress’ exact words.  
  
 _Hey, it’s Allison! Leave a message, I’ll get back to you. Thanks!  
  
_ But for some reason, that’s all she remembers. Lydia tries her best to think of Allison’s voice saying those words, but she can’t. In fact, she can’t remember the way Allison’s voice sounds like. She can’t remember the way Allison used to say her name, or the way Allison’s laugh sounded, that sweet laugh that always made Lydia smile, that made everyone around the huntress smile. “No...no, no, no,” the strawberry blonde mutters, shaking her head, trying to think long and hard about it—because she can’t just forget it—no, _she can’t.  
  
_ Yet, no matter how hard Lydia tries to think about her best friend's voice, her mind is blank. She lets out a shaky breath, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she feels burning tears sting her eyes, because the realization finally dawns on her.  
  
She can’t remember.  
  
“H-How—h-how can I j-just forget it?” Lydia says to herself, stumbling over her words as her fingers tremble and her whole body shakes, because that’s the only thing she had. The only thing that actually kept her _grounded_. The only thing that helped her remember that things are going to be okay, the only thing that gave her the sheer possibility that Allison might _get back to her_. And now, it’s gone. Now, Lydia has nothing left.  
  
And the only thing she can do is cry.  
  
She tries hard to hold it in, the tears, the pain, _everything_ , but there’s only so much she can do to stop herself from breaking down, and right now in this moment, she isn’t capable of doing anything. So she lets the tears fall, lets her cheeks flush and her face crumple and her lip quiver—and if Lydia wasn’t absolutely devastated, it probably would have felt relieving to finally let it all out.  
  
“Lydia?”  
  
She glances up and finds Parrish standing next to her, looking at her with those worried eyes again and for a minute, she feels embarrassed, that she’s crying like this in front of someone she barely knows. She brings a shaky hand up to her face, wiping the tears away, but it’s too late anyways because she isn’t fooling anyone, especially not the deputy.   
  
“What’s wrong, Lydia?” He asks softly, taking a seat next to her and setting down the water bottle he had brought for her.   
  
Lydia looks at him and she thinks that she probably looks so pitiful right now, so broken, and she hates it. She hates feeling like this. She hates people seeing her like this, but as she looks into Parrish’s eyes, she sees something different, because it’s always been different with him. This man who has his morals intact, who saved her life and killed a man for it, this man who was burned alive by his own co-worker, yet survived because he’s some sort of supernatural creature that no one knows about, and yet despite all that, he still manages to forget about his own problems and care about hers.  
  
And maybe that’s the reason she opens up to him. “I-I can’t remember her voice,” she says slowly, pressing her lips together.  
  
His hand finds its way to rest gently on her arm, probably noticing the way she was shaking, and his warm touch calms her down a little. “Who’s voice?”  
  
“Allison’s,” she whispers, glancing down. Just saying the huntress’ name wants to make her break down again, but she manages to hold up.  
  
“Allison…,” Parrish says, the name leaving his lips as if he remembers it. And maybe he does. Maybe he came across the name while doing paperwork, and maybe he wondered how can life take away such a young heart.  
  
“She’s my best friend,” Lydia replies and then cringes because she did it again. She used the present tense _again_. “She...was...my best friend.” She doesn’t notice when she starts crying again, when the tears leave her eyes once more, until she feels Parrish softly wipe away her tears, making her look up at him through wet eyes.  
  
“Hey...hey,” he whispers, brushing away the stray curls that fall in front of her face. “It’ll come back to you. I know it will. Have hope.”  
  
Lydia closes her eyes, shaking her head helplessly. “That's the thing though. I _don’t_ have hope anymore. Allison was my hope, and now, now she’s gone.”   
  
“No,” Parrish says, making her open her eyes and look at him a bit startled. He holds both of her hands now, squeezing lightly. “There’s always hope, Lydia. Even if it’s just a sliver, even if it feels like there’s no hope left. _It’s still there._ ”  
  
Lydia wants to believe it, she really does. But not right now. Because right now, all she wants to do is cry, and without thinking twice about it, she breaks down in Jordan’s arms, burying her face into his shoulder and letting out small, shaky sobs. She doesn’t think twice about the fact that Parrish is a deputy or that anyone can walk in on them, and for a moment she thinks he’s going to pull away because she’s holding on to him for dear life, while the back of her mind tells her how inappropriate this is on so many levels.  
  
But he doesn’t pull away.  
  
Lydia feels his arms wrap around her instead, pulling her closer to him while he rubs her back soothingly. His touch is gentle, everything about him is gentle, and when he leans close to her ear and whispers that everything’s going to be okay over and over again, Lydia finds comfort. She finds relief as his voice calms her, brings her an unexpected peace, and makes her eyes flutter close until she’s fallen asleep in his arms.

 

**

 

She wakes up again a few hours later.  
  
Except Lydia doesn’t know that it’s only been a few hours. She’s lying on the couch now instead of the deputy's arms, his officer jacket covering her like a blanket, as she blinks a few times to get the sleep out of her eyes. She sits up a little, tugging the jacket closer to her body as she looks around and notices she’s alone in the break room. But not for long. Parrish enters again as soon as she wakes up, and she reads the surprise on his face when he sees her awake.   
  
“You only slept for three hours,” he says, handing her the bottled water that she didn’t drink before. “Do you feel better?”  
  
She nods unsure, not knowing exactly if she does feel any better. Her hand reaches out to take out her phone to call Allison’s number again, because maybe, _just maybe_ it was a mistake last time. But the pocket of her skirt is empty, her phone isn’t there.  
  
Parrish notices the immediate panic that falls over her face, because his hand slips into the pocket of his own pants and he holds out her cellphone in his outstretched hand. “Sorry...I should have asked you before I took it.”  
  
She takes her phone slowly and looks up at him questioningly. “Why’d you take it?”  
  
“When you told me that Allison’s cell number was reissued to someone else and that you couldn’t hear her voice anymore,” he pauses and takes a seat next to her before continuing, “I thought that maybe her dad could be of some help.”  
  
Lydia hasn’t talked to Chris Argent ever since Allison’s death, not only because he’s been in France, but now even when he’s back, she hasn’t been able to speak to him.   
  
When Lydia doesn’t say anything, Parrish gently takes the phone away from her again and turns it on, browsing through it until he gets to her videos folder. “And he gave me this, because he knows and I know how much it would mean to you.” He hands her back her phone and Lydia takes it curiously as the video starts to play on the screen.  
  
At first, all she sees is darkness and someone moving the camera awkwardly before a door opens and Lydia recognizes the surroundings. It’s Allison’s room. She already remembers it so clearly, despite not having been in there since forever, and just seeing it on the screen makes her feel so good again. The lights of the room suddenly flash on, the darkness disappearing as a annoyed groan comes from the girl under the covers of the bed.  
  
And then Lydia hears her voice. And she feels so much relief.  
  
 _Oh my god, you couldn’t have waited until the morning?_ Allison throws the covers off herself, her face appearing on video, that dimpled smile that Lydia misses so much curving on her best friend’s list. The next voice she hears is clearly Chris Argent’s, who is also the one holding the camera.  
  
 _Of course not. It’s your seventeenth birthday!  
  
_ Allison laughs, which makes Lydia smile, as she sits up on her bed, staring straight into the camera and for a moment Lydia feels like she’s looking at her. Allison rolls her eyes. _You’re acting like it’s my eighteenth.  
  
_ “She never got to celebrate her eighteenth,” Lydia says softly, blinking the tears away, as she feels Parrish wrap a gentle arm around her shoulder comfortingly.   
  
_Eighteenth or seventeenth, it’s still my daughter’s big day, so happy birthday sweetheart.  
  
_ Allison gets up from her bed and walks over to her father and for a moment the camera loses focus, which Lydia assumes is because Allison’s hugging Chris. _Thanks Dad._  
  
 _So, what do you want for your birthday?  
  
_ The camera comes back into focus and Allison bites her lower lip while smiling, a thoughtful expression on her face. _Now that I think about it, I don’t really want anything.  
  
Really? C’mon, you’ve got to want something.  
  
_ Allison thinks some more, before her face finally brightens up because she’s got it. _Oh, I know. I want to go eat at my favorite restaurant in San Francisco.  
  
The italian place right?   
  
_ Allison nods in reply. _Well obviously we can’t go today since it’s a school night, but we can drive over on the weekend, yeah?  
  
Sounds like a plan.  
  
_Allison smiles once more, before scrunching up her nose and then frowning. _Oh god, I look terrible. Turn that off.  
  
What? You look fine.  
  
Nooo, I don’t. Dad—_ She reaches for the camera, but Chris is faster and for the next few seconds, the camera is pointed at nothing particular as Allison and Chris both struggle to get a hold of it, Allison’s laughter echoing in the background as she keeps trying to tell him to turn it off. And then, suddenly, the camera drops and the video finally comes to an end. The screen goes black and Lydia just stares at it, not noticing when tears have dotted her eyelashes once again. But this time they’re tears of happiness. Parrish squeezes her shoulder reassuringly and when Lydia’s managed to compose herself, she turns to him with appreciative eyes. “Thank you.”  
  
Parrish looks surprised. “Don’t thank me, thank Allison’s father.”  
  
“I know, but _thank you too_ ,” Lydia emphasizes. “You barely know me, you...didn’t have to do it, but you did. So thank you. Thank you for giving me hope again.” Then, without hesitation, she leans forward towards him, tilting her head slightly so that her lips brush against his cheek, lingering far longer than needed. When she pulls away, he's looking at her with wide eyes, a dazed expression, and she thinks that maybe she made the wrong move. But then he smiles at her, a blush streaking his cheeks, and things feel alright again.  
  
“Anytime,” Parrish replies, squeezing her hand softly in response.  
  
Lydia smiles, and she thinks she might have found something more than just hope.

  
  
**

 

When the Sheriff finally allows Lydia to talk to Meredith, Parrish watches her through the glass of the interrogation room. He watches her because she’s determined like a spark, a fire, an inferno, and he can’t keep his eyes off her. And as he watches her, he can’t help but smile to himself, his hand touching the spot on his cheek again where she had kissed him earlier.   
  
And he thinks, he might have found love in a hopeless place.


End file.
